"Well, then, spare me the honour of receiving a visit from your mother."

Jacob grew pale and his eyes flashed.

"You have been my benefactor," said he slowly. "Do not make me forget it."

"Excuse me, there are degrees in Judaism; for example, I give myself out as a descendant of rich German Jews."

"Why do you prefer the German Jews," asked Jacob with a smile of pity.

"Are they any the less Jews?"

"Perhaps not. But they rank higher, and their past is different. Will your mother live with you?"

"I hope so. I shall be very glad to have her near me."

"I see that it is useless to reason with you. I cannot convince you; but if you have thoughts of Muse, I advise you to be careful."

"I do not dream of Mademoiselle Wtorkowska."

"There have been rumours"--

"These rumours have no foundation."

"The presence of your mother in your apartments will shock many people."

"So much the worse for them. I do not intend to offer my mother as a holocaust."

"Has she brought any more of the family?"

"I believe that she is alone. Poor old woman! to see me she has undertaken a long and wearisome journey."

"She had better have sent for you to come to her, instead of suddenly appearing at Warsaw."

Then Mathilde's father returned to the _salon_, saluted the old woman politely, and took his leave.

On the first floor of the house the news of the arrival of a Jewess in the ancient national costume was circulated from mouth to mouth.

Jacob's servant had no secrets from the Wtorkowska's maid, and he soon told her all about it; she carried the news to madame, who, inspired by Paul de k.o.c.k, her favourite author, arranged the story in her own fashion and went to relate it to Muse.

"It is nothing to me," cried the young lady. "Jacob is no longer on my list."

"Alas," replied Madame Wtorkowska, "to be so rich and to remain such an obstinate Jew!"

"Mamma, would you have any objection to Sofronof, if he declares himself?" asked Emusia.

"Do as you wish. Provided that you marry, your choice will be mine. Yet be on your guard with this Sofronof. These Russians have no scruples, no delicacy; to break a woman's heart is for them a pleasure, something to glory in. Under apparent splendour, they are often penniless adventurers who come to Poland to replenish their purses. I know the Russians well. Many of them parade about in a brilliant uniform and live in poverty."

"Mamma, Sofronof has a fine property in the province of Kostroma."

"I have met these brilliant officers who boast of possessing hundreds of peasants near Iaroslaf or Tambof. They lied, and this one may also.

Let us go to Kostroma. The government pays these colonels so poorly, and even the generals, that they are obliged to rob to cut any figure."

"It is not called robbery in Russia. They give it another name,--indirect revenue, I believe. The country is so organized that the employes, civil and military, without exception, procure indirect revenues to increase their salary."

"Yes, dear Emusia, I regret Jacob. Unfortunately, he has a mother who is an impossible Jewess."

"If I willed it, nevertheless, I could make him leave father, mother, and religion. I am sure I could overcome him; but I do not care to make any more efforts in that direction. Jacob is not congenial to me. My favourite, you know, is Henri."

"You always force me to repeat that he is married."

"The obstacle is Mathilde. She will soon die, and Henri would marry me immediately."

"The grapes are too green."

"We will see, and as a last resort I have always Sofronof."

Some days after the arrival of Jacob's mother Henri Segel said to his father-in-law:--

"This Jacob is intractable. He will never be a society man.

Presumptuous and obstinate, he refuses to see the world as it is. His head is full of fantasies from the Talmud, of dreams of reform, strange ideas of fraternal union. He is for Poland, and at the same time against the revolution. He refuses to enter into relations with the most important persons. He keeps to himself and is a real savage; useless to the world, yet not deprived of intelligence. But he is of no use to us."

"He always reminds me of the beggary from which I took him," said Samuel. "He seems to be proud of it."

"It is too bad; with his large acquaintance he could have been of great service to us. He has good manners and a sympathetic character. No one would ever take him for a Jew, if he did not foolishly avow his origin on every occasion. He is compromising in society. Men of his calibre are destined to an evil end, and he makes himself disagreeable to all.

He must be blind, to act so much against his own interests."

"Have you heard about his mother?"

"Not yet."

"Imagine, then, a Jewess of the lowest rank suddenly appearing at his house. He has welcomed her, and made much of her, and walked with her on the public streets. He would have brought her to me, if I had not begged him to spare me this ridicule."

"The same danger threatens me, I fear, and he is capable of choosing the very day when I have the best society of Warsaw in my _salon_. This eccentric has turned Mathilde's head. She will suffer no one to ridicule him, and looks on him as a saint."

"They have indulged in a Platonic romance since their childhood; but I will give you the means of breaking the charm which enchains my daughter's spirit. Behold! he whom she takes for a saint pays his tribute to frail humanity."

"How? I have never heard any scandal about Jacob."

"He has concealed it well; but I have a good detective who has told me that this sage, learned in the books of Solomon, follows the footsteps of that voluptuous monarch. Only they are not beautiful Midianites with whom he shares his wealth. He has succ.u.mbed to a pure-blooded Jewess."

"Tell me about it, I beg of you."

"Well, you know that I like to look about me a little everywhere.

Sometimes I profit by it, and it always amuses me. Sometimes in one direction, sometimes another, I have bloodhounds that I chat with. Of late, that old man with a red nose, whom they call Trompette, has spied about for me. One day I was occupied; he insisted on seeing me, and came in with a mysterious air as if he had a state secret. He told me that Monsieur Jacob,--you will never guess,--the pious Jacob, had a mistress. She is a Jewess, whose father is very rich. The romance has lasted a long time, for the result is a child, on account of which she has been turned from her father's house."

"Well, well!" cried Henri. "Why, it is impossible!"

"At first he hid her with the greatest mystery in a little old house in the _rue des Jardins_. Now he has established her, still secretly, in a much more comfortable place in Saint George's street. He often goes there in the evening. I know it to be so, and I am told that the girl is pretty, graceful, and modest."

"How does he reconcile this proceeding with his principles?" asked Henri. "Really, I am surprised."